


Dad Dancing And Cats

by magnanimous



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Dad Dancing, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Skinny Steve, Steve Rogers Has Cats, Time Skips, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, Weird 80s songs im sorry ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 21:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14505846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnanimous/pseuds/magnanimous
Summary: “In a West End town in a dead end w-“ He paused mid-chant, breathing heavily, whilst the song overtook him.He felt a great disturbance in the force.Someone was furiously hammering at his apartment door. Was it not 11am? Bucky’s heart stopped.He fell dramatically to his knees, grabbing at his phone on the side table. It read: 5:04am.Fuck.Fuuck.Fuuuck.





	Dad Dancing And Cats

**Author's Note:**

> hi there!  
> thank u for clicking on my story x  
> i've come to the conclusion that I can't write chaptered stories because I have severe commitment issues sooo here I am writing one shots!  
> seriously though, I'm starting a creative writing degree soon and I slowly realised that I haven't written anything in like 7 months or something, so... i had to start somewhere.  
> also it is vitally important (srsly) that you listen to 'West End Girls' by the Pet Shop Boys otherwise some bits might not make sense.  
> feel free to leave kudos and a comment if you like, thank u xxx

_♫Sometimes you're better off dead♫_

_♫There's a gun in your hand it's pointing at your head♫_

An unexpected first song, but he’ll slide with it. He cranked up the volume on his battered stereo. His head bobbing along to the beat. It must be at least 11am right now, Bucky thought, the only people in his building were the semi-deaf elderly, and the unemployed. That pretty much meant prime dance party time.

_♫You think you're mad, too unstable♫_

_♫Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables♫_

His shoulders were moving now, his body bouncing around the circle he created in his head, muttering the lyrics under his breath. Only somewhat aware of how stupid this must look to any bystander. But, does he care? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

_♫In a restaurant, in a West End town♫_

_♫Call the police there's a mad man around♫_

Bucky was fully dad-dancing now, his arms and legs jutting out to the beat as he geared himself up for what would be the greatest chorus to ever grace his empty apartment… Come on, come on, come on…

_♫Running down underground♫_

_♫To a dive bar, in a West End town…♫_

“In a West End town in a dead-end world!” Bucky screeched above the already loud music pumping out of his speaker. Losing control and splaying his arms out around him, his voice reached an octave higher, breaking the physical capabilities of his voice box.

“The East End boys and West End girls!” He precariously leapt up onto his rickety patchwork couch, adrenalin coursing through him - almost like he hasn’t done this a thousand times before.

“In a West End town in a dead end w-“ He paused mid-chant, breathing heavily, whilst the song overtook him. He felt a great disturbance in the force. Someone was furiously hammering at his apartment door. Was it not 11am? Bucky’s heart stopped.

He fell dramatically to his knees, still on the couch, grabbing at his phone on the side table. It read 5:04am.

Fuck.

Fuuck.

Fuuuck.

“Fuuuuck” he whined, raking his hands over his sweaty face and into his matted brown hair.

He clutched at his stomach and wheezed in and out, a truly pathetic attempt to get his breath back. This was definitely a sign he should start reading the gym membership pamphlets rather than throwing them in the trash.

Imagine if he died?

“Local Brooklynite dies alone in apartment after severe asthma attack due to erratic dancing at 5am”

Well, it’s one way to go out.

He wasn’t nearly as high or drunk enough to make up for waking at 5am to have an emergency dance party.

Disorientated wasn’t the right word to describe how Bucky’s felt, it was beyond comprehensible. His good mood has plummeted into the shitty carpet of his apartment.

“Too many shadows whispering voices, faces on posters too many choices, if when why what how much have you got” He murmured under his breath, still bobbing his head in time with the music as he dizzily made his way over to his stereo, smashing the off button to silence the piece of shit.

Someone was still crashing their fists down on his door, bang, bang, bang, every two fucking seconds.

“Okay!” He barked, his response muffled as he tugged a shirt he found on the floor over his head to accompany his checked boxer shorts, he didn’t want to scare whoever was out there with his devilishly handsome, sculpted, tan body – kidding, remember the gym membership? Bucky doesn’t either.

He hurriedly unlocked his door, half expecting the person out there to have vanished, but low and behold, Bucky pulled it open to reveal a short, blond man. The guy was on the small side, had to be at least 5ft. 4, his head coming up to Bucky’s shoulder.

Right away Bucky clocked that his pyjama pants had little triceratops on them, homing in on them almost immediately, because, believe it or not, he owns a pair himself. He quickly averted his eyes to his face. It was illuminated by the little light emerging from Bucky’s apartment, casting shadows across his pale skin. His hair was a bird’s nest atop of his head, accompanying the crazy bags underneath his cobalt eyes, that were boring directly into Bucky’s soul. Despite all this, he still didn’t look even a little bit peeved – like it wasn’t 5 in the morning and no one was belting The Pet Shop Boys at full volume like it was still 1986.

It’s also worth mentioning that this guy was hot as hell. Wherever it is Bucky falls on the complicated spectrum of sexuality, this guy was… his guy… so to speak.

Bucky henceforth Christened him the oh-so original name of ‘hot blond neighbour’ – shortened to h.b.n.

Before he could even apologise, h.b.n spoke up in a musky, deep voice. “Look, I don’t wanna be ‘that guy’” He used air quotations “But, my cats are going crazy, man” his voice surprised Bucky, it was deeper than he anticipated, there was also an aura of calmness to it which Bucky was also not expecting.

A pang of anxiety recoiled through his stomach like a spring, bouncing around, causing mass contusions to his insides. 

“I’m so sorry, I-“

“Woah!” h.b.n held both his hands up, palms facing towards Bucky as a sign of surrender “It’s not me you should be apologising to, man, tell it to Blue and Red” he gestured over his shoulder, he didn't smile but his eyes remained warm.

For a second, Bucky’s remained in a state of shock - before remembering how to speak English.

Letting out a sigh of relief that morphed into a smile halfway through, Bucky ran a hand through his unkempt hair, “I can deal with pissing people off but cats? Not happening” 

H.b.n laughed at this, a low chuckle that sent Bucky’s ovaries flying over the edge, the short man looked behind him after, a sure indication that this conversation would soon be over. Bucky could almost feel the paranoia creeping in, ready to tear him into shreds the moment this the guy leaves.

H.b.n spoke up, gesturing behind him “I better go now, can’t keep my cats waiting” He smirked at Bucky, his hand casually resting in his pockets. Unexpected dread flooded through him, he didn’t want this conversation to end, he was actually enjoying himself – despite the circumstances.

“Fair enough, what’s your name by the way? Can’t keep calling you hot blond neighbour” Bucky joked, masking his anxiety.

Steve let out another low chuckle, leaning his head back this time so his molars were visible.

Still smirking, but now with a hint of blush forming on his cheeks, he responded “Steve, and you?”

“Bucky”

Steve reached out his hand and Bucky gladly took it, praying to Jesus that his wasn’t sweaty. He doesn’t want to sound ‘cliché’ but the second they touched, he felt a zing of energy zip up and down his forearm, he didn’t want to let go.

“Well nice to meet ya, pal” Steve turned away and slowly began to jog down the staircase opposite. 

No way was a golden opportunity like this going to slip between his fingers. Still starstruck, Bucky spoke up before his brain even knew what was going on “Wait! Wait” he hollered. Steve turned around, his eyebrows raised “You live in this building, right?”

“Yep” Steve replied.

This is it, Bucky thought, this is his moment. 

'Please be gay, please be gay, please be gay' He silently prayed in his head before giving Steve his absolute best shit-eating smile that even Sam can’t say no to. “Be here at like 3 and we’ll grab a coffee? To make up for pissing off your cats?”

Without missing a beat, Steve gave him another one of his sunshine smiles “I’d love to” His blond head then disappeared below, stealing every bit of Bucky’s confidence with him.

 

* * *

 

 ** 1 ** ** 0 years later **

Steve’s leg jiggled up and down underneath the table. Peggy had assured him he’d be fine, but he was still dying inside slightly. This moment was – is -  supposed to be legendary, a literally moment to look back on when he’s 90 with his zimmer frame and possibly more cats.

He glanced over to see Bucky mingling, and caught him mid laugh, his head thrown back, posture relaxed with a champagne glass balancing between two fingers. His brown eyes were glittering, reflecting the decorative lights that were strung up around the room. That’s it – that’s what Steve lives for.

Bucky is at the epicentre of the universe and Steve’s a simple meteor, orbiting around him.

“It was a lovely ceremony” Said a warm voice behind him. Steve spun around in the chair he was lazily sitting in. It was Bucky’s sister, in all fairness he’d only met her a handful of times. Her eyes were intense, like she knew all his secrets.

“Thank you” he smiled gratefully “Have you spoken to Buck yet?”

She gave a smile that was frighteningly like Bucky’s, yet her eyes remained the same “Yes! I don’t think-“ Her voice faltered a little, but she powered on “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.. so Steve, could you please, please promise me one thing” She begged.

Steve held eye contact and locked his jaw. “Anything”

She quickly stood and relocated to the seat next to Steve on their vacant circular table, her chiffon wrap floating behind her. She grasped his hand, gazed into his eyes “Bucky’s been hurt so many times and I know this is so, so fucking… cliché” She let out a strangled laugh, her voice thick “Please love him, even at his worst… because, Steve, he loves every single bone in your body” Tears were streaming out of her eyes at this point, her face still held a glorious smile.  

Steve did the only thing he knew how, he gently let go of her hands and reached over, pulling her into a tight hug. He whispered into her ear “I promise”.

He pulled back just after the current song had finished. Instantaneously, a new song had started up and Steve’s heart nearly leapt out his chest. He knew that beat anywhere.

Rebecca sniffed, patting her eyes with a tissue. “Go find him” She smiled.

Steve turned around and immediately made eye contact with Bucky a few feet in front, he was wearing that shit eating grin again. God, he loved him.

Bucky made a beeline for him, the sudden movement ruffling his brunet hair back. Steve was gently pulled onto the dance floor in the centre of the room. Bucky let go and promptly wind-milled his arms, creating a circle in the crowd of people.

Staggering dizzily back over to Steve, laughing melodiously, Bucky pulled him close, just before the lyrics began, two halves of a whole colliding into each other. With their foreheads pushed together, eyes gazing into one another, bodies moving in unison, completely intertwined. They, and the rest of the crowd, screamed out:

_♫Sometimes you're better off dead♫_

_♫There's a gun in your hand it's pointing at your head♫_

_♫You think you're mad too unstable♫_

_♫Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables♫_

_♫In a restaurant in a West end town♫_

_♫Call the police there's a mad man around♫_

_♫Running down underground♫_

_♫To a dive bar in a West end town…♫_

 


End file.
